Chapitre 69: The language of warriors.

The Byzeth soldiers, or what was left of them after the bloody battle, began to shift uneasily as they watched the tension build between Aric and Yrsa. 

They glanced at each other, nervous, unsure of what was unfolding before them. Their faces were pale, cold, but the fear in their eyes had nothing to do with the biting northern wind. Meanwhile, the Northrender legionaries stood resolute, their bodies rigid and their eyes locked on the prince. 

They were always ready for battle, and today was no different. They wouldn't hesitate to strike at a moment's notice.

Between Aric and Yrsa, a silence fell. It was scraping, heavy, filled with the kind of tension that could ignite the air. Yrsa's eyes burned with fury, her body tense as her mind raced, weighing her next move. 

Aric knew the Northrenders would not tolerate any perceived betrayal or insult to them. He could lose his life in an instant if things went wrong, but that didn't bother him.